The Accidental Kiss
by bethaboo
Summary: Bella is the heir to Summit Beverages, and Charlie has just hired the famous football player, Emmett McCarty, to be their new spokesman. Uptight Bella and Emmett's agent, the charming Southern Edward Cullen, just don't get along. Sparks fly. AU AH. OOC.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey bbs! I promised you a Christmas present and here it is. Chapter 1 of the novella I wrote for Alaskangirl, the winner of the Support Stacie auction. She has generously agreed to share her story with you. There are 5 chapters, and I'll upload a new one every couple of days. Enjoy!**

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BPOV

"Now, Bella, I don't want you to argue," Charlie drawled and I did my best to try to keep a straight face—a non-argumentative face—on. In fact, I even plastered a downright sweet expression on. But inside, I was seething. Whenever my dad started out with an admonition not to argue, it typically meant I was about to hate whatever it was I was going to hear.

I'd come into the office today feeling like I had conquered the whole world. Summit Beverages, the tiny company my grandfather had started out of his garage, was gaining a huge market share on Coke and Pepsi, and I knew that my strategies and aggressive tactics had a lot to do with that. And today, my dad Charlie, the CEO, was going to tell me he was stepping down so I could finally take over.

I'd been waiting the last five years, doing everything that Charlie had assigned me, no matter how nasty or weird or impossible. I'd aced every task, and with the new quarterly sales figures for Summit out this morning, I had a feeling that today was _finally _the day.

Walking into his office, I'd felt on top of world before he'd uttered the words that wove a small niggling doubt into my mind.

"I've got something else for you to do," he continued, not even noticing that my eyes had narrowed in frustration and annoyance.

"What now?" I interrupted impatiently. I'd done the world's worst laundry list of crap in order to prove to Charlie that I could handle the CEO job. Sure I would be one of the youngest CEOs—and one of the few women—on the Fortune 500 company list, but I'd proved myself over and over. I was efficient and brisk and, most importantly, lethal.

Charlie lifted in eyebrow at my edgy tone, but I couldn't bring myself to apologize.

Finally, after a long gusting sigh, he continued. "My good friend Edward Cullen," he began, speaking as typically slow as he always did, "and I have worked out a deal. You're going to supervise the results."

"I didn't know you knew Edward Cullen," I nearly snapped.

He pretended like I hadn't so rudely interrupted, and ponderously kept going. "As you know, Edward is Emmett McCarty's agent. Emmett is going to be our new spokesperson."

My jaw dropped.

For about half a second, I honestly did try to reign myself in, but it was impossible. Shock and anger overrode any self-control I had left, and I launched myself verbally at Charlie. "A new spokesperson? Emmett McCarty? How come I knew _nothing _about this?" I nearly yelled.

"Oh, it's been in the works for some time," Charlie said sagely, not even reacting to my sudden outburst. "Must have forgotten to tell you."

Charlie often played the slow, stupid card, but I knew better than to fall for it. My dad was one of the smartest, quickest businessmen I'd ever met, and his Southern good 'ol boy act only served to help outwit his opponents. Underestimating him was typically one of the last things they did.

I nearly ground my teeth together. "So what is my job exactly?"

"Well," Charlie started, dragging out the first syllable until you could nearly iron a shirt on it, "Edward assures me that Emmett's a great fit for Summit. But he can be a trifle. . .spontaneous at times."

Great. An idiot. And even better, an idiot football player and his idiot agent. Clearly my main task would be to keep them both in line and make sure they didn't destroy all the market share I'd worked so hard to build.

"Oh?" I said.

"Bella," Charlie sighed. "You're a fantastic businesswoman. Better than me. And I'm fucking amazing. But you're shit with people. You bowl right over them—there's no subtlety, no give and take."

I tried not to be affronted and failed. "So you're assigning me this _task _so that I can learn to better work with the dumbass quarter of the population?"

Charlie didn't answer, he simply pressed his intercom and told Esme, his new wife, who also happened to be his secretary, to send in Edward and Emmett.

I'd heard a lot about Emmett McCarty. It was hard not to. He was huge in the NFL, and well. . .huge. Despite that he played for the Pittsburgh Steelers and Summit's headquarters were also in Pittsburgh, we'd never met. But no matter. I already had him pegged. He was a testosterone-laden, small-brained troublemaker.

He walked in the room and yeah, I'd been right. He was an enormous hulk of a man, but he was also strangely boylike and had surprisingly twinkly blue eyes in a tanned face.

He shook my hand and muttered something about being glad to finally meet me. I agreed, though the feeling definitely wasn't mutual.

Then I turned to Edward, who stood behind him.

I hated Edward Cullen on sight.

He was gorgeous, with this shock of mussy, carefree bronzed hair and the most brilliant, charming green eyes I'd ever seen in a human face.

He lounged more than stood, and I found myself standing up even straighter when we finally came face to face.

"So this is Bella," he drawled, and considering his overall appearance, I was not surprised to hear the thick Southern accent. And it was definitely not an uppercrust Charleston accent. This guy sounded like he was from the Louisiana bayous.

"Miss Swan," I corrected stiffly as I shook his hand as briefly as I could.

I immediately knew I had to talk my dad out of the promotional deal. No doubt this Edward Cullen had snowed him with his Southern charm, and my whole opinion of the deal wasn't just going down the drain—it was already gone.

"Bella," Charlie chided, getting up from his desk and walking around to the two of us standing off in the middle of the room.

I managed to soften my features from glacial to merely freezing. "Mr. Cullen, it's nice to meet you."

The amused expression in those infernal green eyes told me that he knew I was lying through my teeth.

"Don't worry, Mr. Swan, I'll definitely charm little Bella here in no time," Edward drawled and I clenched my fists together.

If I'd hated him before, there were no words to express my loathing for him now. How dare he slouch into Summit and speak patronizingly to _me_? I was the heir apparent. Everyone treated me with courtesy.

Okay, maybe it was more fear than respect, but I'd take that, too. Edward Cullen wouldn't know fear _or _respect if they came up and bit him in the ass.

"I'm going to take Emmett over to legal and get some papers signed," Charlie said, putting his arm around Emmett, who beamed happily, no doubt thrilled at netting several million dollars to shill Summit beverages. "You two just sit here and get acquainted."

The door closed behind Charlie and I congratulated myself that my control held and I didn't rip his head off. Instead, I smiled, politely, distantly, and let him know that under no uncertain terms would we be 'getting acquainted.'

Of course, Edward was thick and obtuse and missed my clear signal to not speak.

"We have a press conference in an hour," he announced, and after throwing that bit of bait out, walked over to a chair and sat down. He didn't even stay upright—not that he'd been upright since he'd entered the room—but slouched down low in the chair, propping his shoes right in the middle of Esme's beautiful coffee table.

I glared at him, said nothing, and kept my position in the middle of the room.

A good minute of uncomfortable and awkward silence passed before he spoke again.

"You know, I pegged you for a real bitchy ice queen the moment I entered the room, but really, you're an even better actress than I'd initially imagined." The amusement that laced through his tone made me want to commit a homicide, right here in my dad's luxurious office.

I clamped my lips together and said nothing, but of course he continued. I looked at a spot on the carpet and tried to pretend that I was ignoring him. But, really, I was listening intently with a sick fascination.

"Just look at you. You couldn't even be buttoned up tighter if you wanted to be. I'd heard all the stories that you were a prim, prissy control freak, but god, I think if I loosened one strand in that old-maid bun of yours, you'd lose your shit."

I almost automatically raised a hand to make sure that every strand of hair was perfectly in place like he said, but I forced it to stay where it was at the last second. I didn't want him to know I actually cared what he said.

It wasn't as if what he was saying was anything new. I was the frigid, cold one. Friendless. Boyfriendless. Obsessed with work. I smoothed down my tight, straightforward, exceptionally plain black suit, and tried to think of why I liked being the way I was.

There was never any drama, never any fuss. I never got hurt. Of course, my personal life was a tomb, so how could I possibly get hurt?

I pushed that thought away. There was no way that Edward, with his drawling insults, was right.

But I couldn't let it slide. I just couldn't. He'd pushed a button inside of me that I hadn't even known existed. I had a temper, but it only came out to play when I was pushed to my limit. Like with Charlie earlier. And with Edward now.

"Are you done with your psychoanalysis or shall I fetch a couch?" I replied coldly, adding just a touch of sarcasm to my tone.

"Oh baby, I could definitely keep going. I bet you like the lights off during sex, right?"

"You. . .you. . .you," I stammered, my fury so great I couldn't even the words out. "That was definitely sexual harassment," I nearly yelled. "And I'm crazy if I don't report you."

"Oh, you won't," Edward said glibly and carelessly, smiling at me again. "Secretly, you're crazy about _me_."

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself before this got really out of hand. Unfortunately, every time he opened his mouth he said something ridiculously outrageous that managed to push another one of my buttons.

"We have to work together for the next week or so. Really, I'd like to keep this as businesslike and professional as possible," I told him, not bothering to hold back the patronizing tone in my voice.

"Oh but it's so fun to give you crap," Edward laughed. "Just to see the expression on your face."

"It's not proper," I insisted, half-knowing what a stuck up priss I sounded like and no longer even caring.

"I've found it's a _lot _more fun not to be," Edward observed, slumping down even farther in the black leather chair. I hated myself for noticing how well his jeans fit his undeniably muscular legs. I wished that he was as ugly and crude on the outside as he was on the inside, but yeah, that was so not happening. This guy could give a Brad Pitt a run for his money.

"Fun has nothing to do with it," I argued. "Business is _not _about fun."

"Don't you find your business fun?" he asked in a rather amazed voice.

"It's a privilege and an honor to work for my father and it's very rewarding, gratifying work."

Edward closed his eyes. "You're making me tired with all your SAT words. I bet you couldn't say a sentence with only one-syllable words. Your private prep school soul would roll over and die."

I rolled my eyes, and opened my mouth to retort something—_anything_—but the door opened again and Esme walked in.

I hated the way that Edward's now wide-open eyes took in Esme as she sashayed across the office floor. I knew she was beautiful and she definitely knew she was beautiful, but despite that, I loved her anyway. She was like the mother I'd never had, and I'd been thrilled when Charlie and Esme got married. Now I just needed him to retire to spend his life with her so I could get my hands on his company, _finally_.

"Charlie says to meet him downstairs. The press conference will be starting soon."

Edward bounded up off the chair, clearly not adverse to looking energetic in front of lovely and fragile Esme. He just didn't care what _I _thought of him. How flattering.

Esme glided back out the door, and Edward turned to me. "Shall we?" he imitated in my best prissy voice, holding out his arm to me. I seethed with loathing as I purposefully snubbed him and stomped out the door in front of him. The next week could not possibly pass soon enough. Working with Edward Cullen was going to be hell on earth.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: A new chapter!!!!!! (and probably the last one before the holiday--sorry guys!)**

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EPOV

Isabella Swan was everything and nothing that I'd been expecting. I watched her with more than passing interest as she hit the elevator button to go downstairs, and I wondered what she was really like—without all the icy attitude and relentless professionalism, and yeah, out of that ridiculously austere black suit.

I'd heard all the stories that she was prissy and prudish and ruthless and mean, and I hadn't really thought that one person could possibly embody all of those things, especially a daughter of Charlie's.

Charlie was like me—Southern and laidback, happy to shoot the shit, though also happy to sit down and work out a great deal. We'd done that with Emmett's sponsorship and I'd thought that both parties had been pleased with the deal. I knew Emmett and I definitely were. The first sign I'd gotten of trouble hadn't been with Charlie, but with his daughter.

Rumors had been swirling all over Pittsburgh that Charlie Swan's daughter was ready to take over her dad's position as CEO of Summit. I'd breezily brushed all of Emmett's worries aside, and had approached today and the rest of the initial promotional tour as hole in ones. But Bella was already proving to be a big sand trap and not only because she was a prissy bitch.

Truth was, the moment I'd walked into that room, I'd been positively fascinated by her. She was so buttoned up and closed down, a man would do just about anything to provoke some kind of real, and not formulated, response out of her.

So far I'd only seen the Ice Queen but I knew that there was definitely a fire burning underneath, and though I knew it was a bad idea to even want to, I was dying to dig deep and find it.

The elevator finally tinged, we walked in, and Bella angrily hit the button to take us down to the first floor and the atrium where press conferences were typically held.

"Bella," I began, worrying about the hatred that was emitting from her in almost palpable waves.

She turned towards me slowly, as if the last thing she wanted to do was look at me, and nearly growled, "It's _Miss Swan_."

I took an almost surprised step back. I hadn't expected such a sound to come from such a beautiful woman. Because despite the pulled back hair, the extremely understated makeup and the austere suit, she was definitely beautiful. In fact, the plain wrapping almost served to highlight more her distinctly curving cheekbones, her full pink lips, and those angry brown eyes.

_Yeah, _I thought to myself, _you're totally screwed._

The elevator doors opened and Bella's stilettos made precise clicking sounds as we made our way across the tiled atrium floor.

"Wait," I hissed quietly, and grabbed her arm before she could get any closer to the group of reporters milling around toward the front of the atrium.

Bella turned back toward me with a questioning look on her face. She shook my hand off, crossed her arms across her chest and glared.

"What?" she replied belligerently.

"I have to tell you something," I said, and I couldn't deny that I sounded pretty hesitant. This wasn't something I wanted to tell _anyone _and certainly not someone who looked like they wanted to use my privates for earrings.

"So? Spit it out." Bella's voice was definitely carrying and I saw a few reporters glance our direction, no doubt interested in what the biggest sports agent in Pittsburgh was doing with the heir apparent for Summit Beverages.

"Quiet," I muttered. "Here, even better. Let's just go behind this conveniently placed palm tree," I told her, grabbing her by the arm yet again and literally dragging her towards my intended destination.

Of course, she struggled every inch of the way—I was quickly learning that getting Bella to do _anything _was hard if not impossible—but finally, we made it behind the palm. I hoped that the reporters thought we were merely taking a scenic route.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bella asked nastily. She looked down at my hand on her arm like it was the most offensive thing she'd ever touched. And hell, it probably was. Everyone deferred so respectfully to her that I was sure nobody had even dared to lay a hand on her.

_You'd like to lay a lot more than a hand, _the devil on my shoulder whispered, but I pushed the thought away. This was definitely not the time to start mentally lusting after Charlie's daughter and my babysitter.

"Calm down," I told her, letting go of her arm like I wasn't dying to grab it and pull her even closer to me. As it was, she was already standing way too close, but her eyes were shooting daggers at me and so I couldn't focus on how soft her skin looked or how much I was suddenly dying to kiss her.

The only explanation I had for my desire was that this whole situation with Emmett had me so stressed I'd cracked. Isabella Swan was a frosty bitch, and she was probably the last woman on earth who would ever want me—or anyone for that matter—so it was definitely useless to even think about it.

But of course, once I'd started, I couldn't stop.

"Will you _please _tell me what is going on?" Bella asked again, and I felt a momentary guilt for leaving her waiting for an answer while I did nothing but fantasize about her.

"Emmett is well. . .he hasn't been himself lately," I finally confessed.

Bella's gaze narrowed. "Tell me what that means. _Exactly_."

I sighed. How could I explain it to Bella when I didn't understand it myself? But considering the large deal that Emmett had just signed, she did deserve to know, if only so she could help me keep it under wraps.

"He's been acting just crazy. Saying weird shit," I rambled off, noting her outraged expression when I swore, "doing strange things. Just not acting himself."

"So what does that mean for this week of promotional events?" Bella asked, her voice cold and hard—totally unemotional. This only confirmed, really, what I already knew about her. She was all about business and not about the people. She could care less if Emmett, one of my best friends, was troubled. She just wanted to know what the dent on her bottom line would be.

I shrugged, irrationally angry with her for being so cold though it was exactly what I'd expected from her.

"I guess," I finally responded, "that what it means is that we both have to be ready for the unexpected."

Bella nodded succinctly, and I got the feeling that this conversation, while it had never been engrossing, was now definitely over.

Okay. That was good. I breathed a silent sigh of relief and wasn't sure why I was so relieved. It should be because I'd done my duty and told my Summit contact that something was up with their new promotional spokesman, but I had a feeling it had a lot more to do with the fact that I'd come perilously close to acting on the desire that raced through my veins.

Bella and I emerged from behind the palm, and surprisingly didn't find the whole cadre of reporters staring in our direction.

I took in the scene in front of me and knew that any write-up we got in the media was going to be purely the fire-extinguishing kind.

Emmett was the center of attention of every female reporter in the place. And the men were all gawking too, though they were definitely doing it a lot more discretely.

He was standing on the press conference table, shirt off, flexing his biceps.

I heard a sharp intake of breath next to me, and I couldn't help but glance over in Bella's direction to see if she was smitten like every other woman in the room.

She definitely wasn't. In fact, she looked rather outraged, which shouldn't have turned me on—but did anyway.

I opened my mouth to tell her that I'd take care of this, but Bella, being. . .well. . ._Bella_. . .was already moving over there at lightspeed, ready to drag Emmett off the table if he didn't succumb to her verbal abuse.

I was gratified to note, that like myself, he did, and gratefully too, ducking his head and giving her that smirking smile that did in the female half of Pittsburgh.

Hell, if that man hadn't been my best friend _and _best client, I would have killed him.

Bella, however, looked like she was about to beat me to the punch. She had his shirt in her hand and she was gesturing angrily and speaking in a low, angry tone. So low, in fact that me and the press, who were all straining to hear, couldn't make out a word.

I'd have to get closer. Presumably to help, but really to see what dear Miss Swan was saying that could make even Emmett blush in shame.

I sauntered over, never moving any faster than a crawl, and Bella turned to face me.

"_We_," she emphasized, "have everything under control."

I raised one eyebrow. "Oh? Should I alert the press that we're ready to begin?"

Bella shot me a glare and I could see Emmett out of the corner of my eye, putting on his shirt and barely holding back the chuckles at our little exchange.

"Emmett?" Bella asked, pointedly switching her attention, and I hated the way that Emmett's eyes locked onto her instantly. I knew that his taste ran more to stacked blondes than slim brunettes, but I still wanted to tear him from limb to limb for even daring to be interested—which was the craziest thing I'd managed to envision yet.

Bella wasn't mine. She wouldn't ever be mine. I was certifiable to even be thinking this way.

"Are you ready to behave?" she asked sternly, and I was impressed at how sincere Emmett looked when he nodded. Not that I believed him—and neither did Bella, judging from her expression—but still, she turned to me and told me to get the press ready.

Ten minutes later we were settled in our chairs, in front of the table that Emmett had so recently been prancing on, calling on interested members of the Pittsburgh press.

I was honestly surprised at how much Bella knew about the promotional schedule, considering she'd only had about five minutes to peruse it before the conference had started. No doubt that under all that pent-up hair, she had some sort of freakishly good memory.

About five minutes into the conference, Emmett had been so jovial and friendly and Bella so informative that I was about to breathe easy.

I should have knocked on wood. My granny had taught me always to expect the worst, and I'd almost had a sunny outlook for a moment. Of course, before that could actually happen, one of the reporters decided to veer from questions about the promotional materials and ask about Rosalie Hale.

Emmett's face suddenly grew dark and angry and I could see the panicked expression flash across Bella's face. She knew what was about to happen. Even though there was no way she could possibly know the truth, somehow she'd connected the dots blindly.

My eyes met Bella's and we both knew that Emmett couldn't be allowed to answer. If he did, he'd take us ten steps back, all the way back to the strip show on the table. I wanted to groan and let my head fall in my hands, but I also couldn't look away from the terrifying way that Emmett was now eyeing the male reporter who'd shouted out the question about Rosalie.

If I could ever get a hold of Rose, I was going to pluck every blond hair from her damn head. It was her fault we were in this whole mess, and she had picked the worst possible time to walk out on Emmett, leaving him a vulnerable, seething mass—not exactly the most ideal situation for Emmett to be presented as Summit Beverage's new spokesman.

Emmett's chair rattled to the floor behind him and he was suddenly on his feet, then over the conference table. I grabbed it before it went flying to the ground under the platform. Bella and I watched with horror as Emmett started circling the offending reporter, spitting out insults and looking ready to start brawling.

"Oh my god," Bella cried out, clutching my arm in horror. "Do something!"

I was momentarily frozen by the sight of Emmett winding back to throw the first punch, and then by the fact that out of choice (or maybe just out of panic), Bella had touched me.

But then Emmett punched the reporter in the face and I was all business.

I jumped over the table, landed, well, not quite so nimbly on my feet, and proceeded to try to figure out what exactly I was going to do to hold Emmett, who had a good seventy-five pounds on me, back from annihilating a member of the press.

I was faster than Emmett, but that wasn't exactly going to help in this situation.

Just as I was trying to make up my mind how to help, a flying object whizzed by my ear and my jaw dropped as a black stiletto hit Emmett squarely on the back of the head.

Emmett promptly dropped the reporter back on the floor, his offense momentarily forgotten as he rubbed his head and looked around for the culprit.

I knew before I even looked backwards that I would see Bella standing there, on the platform, with one bare foot.

I was not sure what to expect of Emmett—I would have at one point in our long friendship, but now, with his bizarre behavior, nothing seemed sure. This was only one in a long list of reasons I was never going to get emotionally tied up in a female. In the end, if you lost her, there was only this insanity left.

Insanity seemed to be the right word cause Emmett, after glancing dumbfoundedly between Bella and the fallen reporter, burst into side-splitting laughter, like the whole thing was one big joke.

_Great, that was all we needed._

Bella seemed to snap out of it the moment Emmett started laughing and she was by my side before I could even reach my hysterical client.

"Get him out of here," Bella hissed at me under her breath. "There's a cab out front. I'll do damage control."

It went against my Southern nature to run from a situation while a woman took care of things, but she looked so determined and capable that I just let her. I dragged Emmett to the door, with the press shoving microphones into our faces and yelling questions, and shoved us into a cab. And as we drove away, I wondered what Bella would do to lessen our now major problem.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas! I sure did! And now chapter 3 out of 5!  
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_Two days later_

BPOV

One look at Edward Cullen's smirking grin and I had totally lost my mind.

I'd bickered with him in a public place, in view of a whole gaggle of reporters.

I'd chucked a shoe at his client—and Summit's new spokesman, who had been brawling on the floor with a reporter.

I'd lied my ass off to the press and to my father, who had been flabbergasted to hear about the press conference fight.

And worst of all, I'd been dying to kiss Edward Cullen.

The first time it happened, while we were in the elevator, I thought it was just an aberration caused by extreme annoyance and stress.

The second time it happened—arguing in front of half the press in Pittsburgh—I knew that it wasn't random anymore, because the air between us was nearly crackling with electricity. The greenness of Edward's eyes seemed to intensify as he stared at me, and I nearly lost my voice as I felt us drifting closer. But before I could absolutely lose my mind, I pulled back. Even if I was tempted to kiss him, there was _no way _I was going to actually act on such feelings. That way laid disaster.

Yet as I waited in the heated car by the red carpet entrance to the evening's celebration, I wondered if really all this rubbing each other the wrong way was why we seemed to be suddenly rubbing the right way.

I resolved to be nicer to Edward tonight, if only that might manage to quench the fire that had suddenly and totally unexpectedly flared up between us. If I was more agreeable, maybe the sparks would stop flying.

Finally, it was my turn to walk inside the club, and taking a deep breath, and hoping that Alice, my trusty stylist, was right (though she always was), I stepped out of the open car door. I shivered in the cold Pittsburgh winter air as my bare skin was exposed. Alice might have hit it out of the park but I was certainly going to pay for the glamour tonight with my own comfort.

I didn't think I would ever get used to the sudden explosion of lightbulbs that lit up the red carpet. I wasn't exactly a celebrity, but I was definitely known by sight and while the paparazzi weren't exactly dogging me, I often had my picture taken at events like these. I didn't like it, but as my father's daughter, I was both rich and eligible, and unfortunately, much in demand.

As I posed briefly outside the car, I held up a hand to deny any questioning of the press. After dealing with that mess two days ago, I wasn't about to open my mouth and say anything else potentially damaging. I'd left a message with Edward's assistant that neither he nor Emmett were allowed to say a single word to the press.

The flashing bulbs were blinding me, and as I walked down the red carpet and the lights cascaded around me in waves, I could make out several figures at the end of the pathway, but, at first, I could only see their shadowy outlines. The details were totally obscured by my poor light-sensitive eyes.

Finally, as I neared the end of the carpet, I glanced at the man standing next to me and nearly fell over. It was Edward, clearly waiting for me, a look of reverence and awe on his face. Unlike his loose and nearly sloppy clothes from two days before, Edward had on a flawlessly-fit tuxedo, which outlined every lean muscle in his equally-flawless body. His green eyes glowed against the crisp black and white background of his suit, and I felt my breath nearly stop at the look I saw in them.

Maybe me being nice to him wouldn't help after all. As we stood there, caught in a torrent of flashing lights, I could feel that electricity flowing between us growing yet again. Though we were surrounded by people, somehow I felt like we were totally alone, caught together in a bubble of blinding light.

"You look . . .beautiful," he said in such a low voice that for a second I thought I'd misheard him. But then he smiled, and I knew I hadn't. Something warm and languorous settled low in my stomach and it only grew when Edward gentlemanly settled a hand on my back to guide me into the venue.

Of course, my dress was totally backless, and instead of his hand resting against the silky blue fabric, we were bare skin to bare skin. I shivered slightly, and I felt his thumb stroke up and down my spine, turning a seemingly impersonal gesture into something much more intimate.

I couldn't deny it anymore; that single caress of his thumb had taken away the last of my resistance. I wanted Edward Cullen. I liked my emotions all neat and tidy in their little boxes, but already this was complex and messy. Normally, I would have run as fast as my feet would take me from a man that made me feel this way, but I knew Charlie wouldn't let me out of it, and there was, despite the inherent danger to my heart, something so arresting about Edward that I probably couldn't have run even if I'd wanted to.

Edward bent down and asked, quietly, his voice low and deep and husky, "Are you cold?"

I shook my head, but his eyes met mine, and I knew that he could tell I was lying. I was a terrible liar even under the best of circumstances and right now I was feeling flayed open and vulnerable.

He sighed. "Let's just get you inside as quickly as possible."

I wasn't going to argue with him, and we walked inside the building as fast as my four inch heels would let us.

Inside the club, there were only candles scattered around, giving the room a glow in spots, but mostly it was just dark. Music pounded around us, and I had to lean in close, very close, to Edward so I could ask him if we could talk.

He smelled clean and spicy, almost like a summer's day, even though it was the dead of winter in Pittsburgh.

"Yeah, let's go over to the corner," Edward said, pulling me towards one of the darker and quieter sections of the club.

We sat down in a little nook, separated from everyone else and I looked him firmly in the eye—trying to prove how serious I was, despite that my insides felt like they were melting.

"Edward, you need to tell me everything you know about Emmett. You know something, I know you do. We'll be stronger together than apart." I'd rehearsed this speech in front of my mirror and in the car before coming, but now, in front of Edward, it had definitely lost some of its thunder.

And, of course, he knew it. "Did you rehearse that?" he teased, picking up my hand and brushing his lips briefly over my skin. "

"Uh," I stuttered, totally dismantled by his slow Southern charm and his hypnotizing green eyes.

And he knew it. He totally knew it. The corner of his mouth upturned into a smirk and I wanted to wipe it off with my fist.

Of course, cool professional classy Bella Swan would _never _do such a thing. I could only dream about doing it. But I could make it a little harder on him.

I pulled my hand back abruptly and managed to wipe the stunned expression off my face. My eyes narrowed at him in annoyance, yet he still looked amused—like he'd figured me out.

"You know," he finally said, his voice ingratiating, "there's nothing wrong with liking me."

I stiffened. "Trust me. I don't like you."

Edward laughed then, and I crossed my arms over my chest. "I don't see how that is funny at _all_."

"You wouldn't. But really, it is. You resist so hard, like liking me is some sort of crime."

"All I want to do is do my job. That doesn't mean I have to like you or that I do. I just want you to tell me what is going on with Emmett."

Edward sighed. "Are we back to that, then?"

"Hell yes, we are. You think you can distract me with your lame Southern charm, but really, that isn't going to work on me."

"I'm charming?" he asked, trying to act surprised, but I rolled my eyes.

"For god's sake, you charm anything that's female, and probably a good portion of the males in Pittsburgh too. You've been around the block a million times, and I am hardly going to just let myself be added to your sordid collection."

"Fine," Edward said and I was thrilled to hear a definite thread of annoyance in his voice. "You want to know what's going on with Emmett?"

I nodded firmly. "Before I have to lie to any more members of the press."

"His girlfriend dumped him."

I looked at him in astonishment. "His _girlfriend_?"

Edward shrugged. "If you've never met Rosalie, I suppose I can see why you'd feel that way."

"What is she? A supermodel?" Privately, I decided she must be, if she'd managed to land the very rich, very handsome, and very eligible Emmett McCarty.

Shaking his head, Edward took two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to me. "You're going to need this," he told me as I tried to wave it off.

Finally, glaring at him, I took the glass and sipped. It was cool and crisp; a perfect vintage. Of course.

Edward drank appreciatively, but I knew better. He might appreciate the champagne and caviar now, but judging from his accent, he hadn't grown up doing so. I knew I was thinking like a real snob, something I hated in others, but I had had it with this jumped-up pretender and I just wanted him to cooperate, no matter how gorgeous he was.

"Why the champagne?" I asked. "I typically don't drink."

"Of course you don't," Edward muttered, more to himself than me.

"Why?" I demanded again. "Tell me."

"Because I'm going to need you to kiss Emmett. And it'll be easier if you're a little tipsy."

My jaw dropped. "_What_?"

"You're going to need to kiss Emmett," Edward repeated, patiently. "You need to do it front of a photographer and we'll make sure that Rosalie sees it. It's the only way she'll talk to one of us, and our opportunity to make her see sense."

"I don't like this," I told him, dubiously.

"I'd be pissed as hell if you did," he said, and before I could even ask him what he meant, Edward got to his feet, pulling me with him.

"You're going to have to do it now," he said rather conversationally, like kissing Emmett was like inviting him to dinner or asking him about his stat line.

"Does. . .does he know?" I asked, suddenly petrified that I was going to have to kiss this massive guy and he wouldn't even see it coming.

"We talked about it," Edward admitted. "He knows what's going on."

"And this is the only way to get Emmett to act normal?" I asked one last time.

"Yes," he said with finality.

"Fine." I ground my teeth together and, handing Edward the champagne flute, made my way over to where Emmett was standing, regaling the few select press invited inside the event all about touchdowns or conquests or beer bongs or . . .whatever it was that heartbroken, whacked-out football players talked about.

He saw me coming out of the corner of his eye and he stiffened briefly, and then relaxed. Me? I just wanted it over with.

Emmett extended a hand towards me and I let myself be nestled into his arms, though I couldn't help but think that this was wrong. These were the wrong arms.

Before I knew it, Emmett was ducking his head and our lips were touching. I couldn't even close my eyes and I was sure my expression bordered on nervous hysteria, but the press nearby all gasped and I felt rather than saw several flashbulbs go off.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I pulled away, dazed, and looked into Edward's rather angry eyes.

"Good. Perfect," he snapped, and I wanted to deck him more than I'd ever wanted anything before.

"Outside," I ordered, and to my relief, Edward did not argue.

We ducked out a side door into a dark, freezing cold alley. Immediately my teeth started chattering, and I heard Edward swear under his breath.

I looked up at him, and he was removing his coat. He draped it around my shoulders before I could even open my mouth to argue.

"Don't," he insisted. "You're freezing."

"Fine," I ground out. "Could you please tell me _why _you looked like you'd like to kill me when I only did this crazy, insane thing you insisted I do?"

The anger faded from his eyes as I looked up at him in frustration.

"Bella," he whispered. "I wasn't angry at you. I was angry at myself. And god. . ._jealous _that Emmett got to kiss you."

I felt my knees grow weak again, simply at his honest words.

"You were jealous?" I asked incredulously.

"I couldn't help it," he admitted, and I didn't fight him when he curled a hand around my waist and pulled me close. His face leaned close to mine, and I knew what was about to happen and I did _nothing _to stop it. My heart thundered and I told myself that I was just curious what it would be like to taste Edward Cullen.

His lips touched mine, not gently, but possessively, and I lost all reason altogether. I didn't just want a taste of Edward Cullen. I wanted _all _of Edward Cullen.

For three heartbeats, I was with him every step of the way. The kiss grew increasingly passionate, and I could feel his hand tracing the length of my spine again, causing me to shiver involuntarily.

And then I pulled away. Edward looked just about as dazed as I felt.

"I wasn't done," he said, with a deep husky voice.

"I was," I countered, and turned and walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

BPOV

I was lying in my bathtub the morning after the party, unsuccessfully trying not to think of the kiss I'd shared with Edward last night.

I remedied that to two kisses. Technically I'd had two last night. One with Emmett, one with Edward. Too bad one had been so forgettable and one so incredibly memorable.

Trying to remind myself that Edward Cullen was a player and that I wanted nothing to do with him, I closed my eyes. _Liar_, that little devil over my left shoulder chanted. _Liar, liar, pants on fire._

Okay, the truth was, I liked Edward _and _his kisses a lot more than I was normally comfortable admitting, but for some reason, this morning, my brain had decided to take a hike and my hormones had gladly taken over.

The phone rang on the bathroom counter, and, groaning, I hastily climbed out of the warm water and wrapped a towel around myself, getting to the phone on its last ring.

"Hello?" I asked breathlessly, not even having time to check then number on the Caller ID.

A cold, haughty voice asked, "Is this Isabella Swan?"

"Yes," I admitted, wondering who this was. Probably one of my mother's friends, wanting me to be on yet _another _charitycommittee.

"This is Rosalie Hale. I need to talk to you about Emmett McCarty."

This was the phone call I'd both been looking forward to and dreading all at the same time. Edward had emailed a list of things to tell Rosalie, which I'd barely skimmed. Most of it was, "Emmett is so sorry," and, "he was wrong," bullshit. None of which was probably the truth.

"Yes," I agreed. "I think we do need to talk."

"Not on the phone," Rosalie insisted. "In person."

I hesitated. I just wanted this over with, not to drag it into some big thing. I hated getting involved in other people's personal lives, but Edward had insisted in his email that this was the only chance to get Rosalie to listen to reason.

Considering how unreasonable and demanding she was on the phone, I was beginning to think he might be right.

"Okay," I agreed, but before I could stipulate a time and place, Rosalie interrupted.

"Your office, in an hour," she stated and hung up the phone.

I stared at the receiver dumbly for a good thirty seconds, and then sighed and went into the closet to find something to wear. No doubt this Rose was some sort of fashion plate and would expect a lot out of her ex's new girlfriend.

Precisely an hour later, I was sitting at my desk, blindly skimming through email when the intercom buzzed, causing me to jolt in surprise.

Dread seeped into my stomach and only intensified when the door opened and in walked the most beautiful blond woman I'd ever seen in my life.

_This _was Rosalie Hale?

I extended my hand nervously. "Hi, you must be Rosalie."

She nodded and shook my hand briefly, before settling down on one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"I wanted to see you," she began, and I was half expecting her to say because she wanted to kill me, but instead she paused, and suddenly in the blue depths of her eyes I saw that there was deep pain. Whoever had broken up with whom, both Emmett and Rosalie were hurting.

I thought of the explanation that Edward had sent, and stood up. "Do you want a cup of coffee?" I asked kindly.

She looked surprised at this, but agreed.

I gathered my coat and purse from the rack behind me. "Okay, let's go," I said, and Rosalie looked at me like I'd lost my mind.

"Where are we going?" she asked and for the first time, her perfect features wrinkling in confusion, she looked more human than Barbie.

"To get coffee," I said patiently. "The coffee they bring us here sucks ass," I added with a smile, and to my surprise, she smiled back.

"There's a Starbucks downstairs," she said, and we headed out the door and down the hall to the elevator.

The moment the doors shut, I turned to her. "I know why you're here. And trust me; it's not what you think."

"I'm just here to warn you," Rosalie told me, and I held up a hand to stop her.

"You don't have to. Believe me when I tell you that I'm not interested in Emmett."

"Good," Rosalie said, and her voice was definitely vicious. "I came to warn you what a cheating, awful asshole he is."

"No," I shook my head and took a risk. "You came here to tell me to stay away from him, yes. But not because you're thinking of me. You can't bear to see him with anyone else."

Rosalie stood still and ramrod straight for a good two floors because she finally turned to me and mumbled, "Is it that obvious?"

"Absolutely not," I reassured her as she brushed a tear from off her cheek. "I just know a little about how you must feel."

"We were together two years," she confided. "Two amazing, wonderful years. I'd never loved anyone the way I loved him. Then three weeks ago, a woman comes to us and says, 'Emmett got me pregnant and I'll go to the tabloids if you don't pay up.'" She sniffled and the vain part of me was more than a little gratified to see her nose getting red.

She took a deep breath, and I wisely stayed silent. "He denied it, of course. But I thought the doubt would drive me insane. I wanted to trust him, but, in the end, I couldn't. So I left."

The elevator doors opened and Rosalie hastily wiped her eyes, clearly not wanting anyone to see her crying. We made our way inside the Starbucks, and I made her sit while I got us coffee.

Finally sitting down across from her, I could see the misery written so plainly on her face, I was amazed I hadn't noticed it at first.

"You're right," she sighed, "I came to you to tell you to stay away. That he was _mine_."

"I have to say, it doesn't seem like you want him to be," I argued quietly. "You decided you couldn't trust him. Did he ever give you reason not to?"

"Yes. And no. He's famous. I was only a Steelers cheerleader. I heard rumors all the time, around the complex and in the gossip blogs. I never believed them, but when that woman came forward, I couldn't help but think maybe he'd played me for a fool."

I was beginning to realize that Rosalie was all about pride. She didn't want to trust in vain.

"He didn't," I told her firmly. "I know I've just met Emmett, but the man is crazy with worry and sick with grief over you. He's been acting like a total fool—acting out because he doesn't know what to do with himself since he lost you."

She looked hesitant but I could tell she wanted to believe. She wanted to know that Emmett loved her and only her. Just like every woman since Eve.

"He only kissed me because it was the only way to get through to you. He didn't want to. Edward had to convince him." This might or might not be true, but I was pretty sure it was. Our embrace had hardly been passionate or loving. Nothing like the way that Edward had kissed me; _that_ was what it felt like when a man wanted a woman.

"I just don't know. . ." Rosalie murmured, almost to herself.

I sipped my coffee and waited her out. Clearly the wheels in her head were turning and I didn't want to interrupt her coming to the right conclusion.

Finally, she set her coffee down on the table and looked me straight on, her blue eyes tinged with red. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I should have trusted him more."

"Love is all about trust," I agreed. "You can't have a very good relationship if you don't trust each other."

"I've made a big mistake, I think," she whispered. "A big, big mistake."

I couldn't help the big smile that broke over my face. "I am so glad you think so. You should come to the big benefit tomorrow night."

"I don't know," Rosalie hesitated. "All those people and all that press. Do you think that would be wise?"

"I do. You really should come," I insisted. "And I'm not just saying that because I don't want Emmett to pull any more ridiculous stunts. You two love each other; that's more than reason enough."

"Thank you," Rosalie said tearfully. "I needed this."

"I know." I smiled at her and she looked fifty times more beautiful and more relaxed than when she'd walked into my office.

"I'll be there," she said decisively. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Good. I'll see you there, then," I told her and then she was gone.

I had about a minute to sit down and drink my coffee before my cell phone rang.

The number was unknown and I hesitated for just a second before picking it up.

"Hello?"

"How did it go with Rosalie?" Edward asked.

"How did you know I met with her?" I demanded to know. I'd heard rumors that he had eyes and ears all over Pittsburgh, but really, this was too much. Was he spying on me?

There was silence on the line—clearly I'd hit the nail on the head.

"That's. . .that's. . .unacceptable," I argued. "I don't want you spying on me!"

"Oh, don't worry," Edward chuckled. "I'm right outside the building, in my car, and I saw you and Rose through the window."

"But you were spying on me," I insisted. "What else were you doing outside the building?"

"I do have a tail on Rose," he finally confessed. "He called and told me she was here, so I dropped by, to see you after she left."

"You're not here to see how it went with Rose; you're here to see me!"

"Well," he drawled. "Call it two birds with one stone."

I knew he was toying with me. He _had _to be. He couldn't possibly be seriously interested in me. We didn't get along at all. He didn't even _like _me.

The kiss we'd shared had to be an aberration.

I looked up and there he was, standing two feet away, looking at me with such an inscrutable expression that I didn't know what to think anymore. I snapped my phone shut and glared.

"You know," he said conversationally as he walked towards me, "you don't really seem to be a morning person. You were a lot friendlier last night."

"That. . .that. . .that was an accident," I stumbled, not being completely sure _what _to call it.

"Really?" Edward asked, sitting down across from me though I hadn't asked him to. "I didn't think so. I thought it was very much on purpose."

I gaped at him. "It was?"

"Bella," he said with amusement rife in his voice, "I hardly tripped and fell and kissed you. I did it pretty deliberately."

"Oh." I wasn't quite sure what to say to that one.

Edward leaned forward, his green eyes gleaming. "Do you trust me, Bella?"

"I hardly know you," I scoffed, and it was all I could do to throw myself at him.

"But you want to get to know me better," he said softly.

I couldn't deny it. I nodded helplessly. "Then you need to trust me. You're an intriguing, beautiful, charming woman. Why wouldn't I want to kiss you? Last night and tonight and as much as I possibly can?"

I had suspected as much, but hearing it from his own lips was something entirely different.

"Okay," I whispered, placing my hands in his, "I trust you."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I was going to wait to post this last chapter of the fic until Friday, but what the heck. I'm just going to do it now. Happy New Year! More after the chapter, bbs!  
**

* * *

EPOV

Standing on the red carpet for the second time in three nights was not my idea of a good time. In fact, I wouldn't have done it at all if Emmett didn't need watching and I wasn't looking forward to seeing Bella so much.

Even in the few days we'd known each other, she'd totally blown every preconceived notion I held about women out of the water. Being from the South I was used to being told and reminded at every opportunity that women needed to be protected. Bella, on the other hand, didn't need protecting at all.

She was strong and fiercely independent. She wouldn't need me to make a simple decision for her. Conversely, she'd probably chop my balls off if I even tried to.

She didn't let me get away with any of my crap, and my skin nearly tingled whenever we were together. I'd sworn that I'd never be as vulnerable as Emmett was with Rosalie, but I'd already come to the conclusion that it wouldn't take much more time in Bella's company to make me Emmett's twin.

I wanted Bella, and I wanted her so much that I almost no longer cared about being emotionally untouched. She'd brought me to my knees, in only a few short days. A woman like that was worth holding on to.

A long black car pulled up at the very end of the red carpet, and in an almost exact replica of two nights ago, the door opened and Bella emerged, looking sinfully gorgeous.

Finally, her hair was down, and its retro waves perfectly matched her short black cocktail dress. Her _tight _cocktail dress. I nearly groaned at how perfectly the satin fabric outlined her body.

She smiled shyly at me as she finally reached my side. "You look beautiful," I said, wrapping an arm around her. "Absolutely stunning."

Laughing, she told me, "You're lying, but thank you."

I shook my head a little as we entered the big ballroom. She might not know she was gorgeous, but I knew the truth.

Inside, the benefit was in full swing, and I left Bella's side to get us drinks.

The line was unfortunately several partygoers deep at the bar, and by the time I'd fetched her white wine and my Scotch, I had to search to find her.

When I did, I wished that I'd never left. My heart stopped and I nearly panicked.

Bella was with Emmett and that woman we were trying so hard to disprove as a lying, money-grubbing bitch, and the press were paying serious attention, snapping away pictures.

I walked up behind her, and setting the drinks down on a nearby table, hooked one hand with hers, and tugged.

She turned toward me and her eyes were big and apprehensive. "Come with me," I whispered, and I took her out a side entrance into an empty hallway.

"You told me that Rosalie was coming!" I hissed. "We were two of the last arrivals, and she hasn't shown up yet. She probably sent that woman to make more crap for us."

"Rosalie _is _coming!" Bella said angrily. "She promised me she would. She told me that she'd made a big mistake about Emmett."

"Well then where the hell is she and why hasn't she called him to apologize!" I knew I was blowing up at Bella, who had done everything she could to make sure this evening went well. Unfortunately, I couldn't seem to help myself. I had to let off the steam somehow, I reasoned.

But Bella's face was growing more and more upset by the moment. "You told me to trust _you_," she insisted, "yet you don't trust me at all. Rosalie is coming. She gave me her word—and I gave you mine."

"Fine," I snapped, and stalked out the doorway, not expecting Rosalie to show up at all.

Except, there she was, standing next to Emmett, with her arm around him, and they were both beaming with happiness. The woman was off to the side, looking angry. The press were all happily gobbling the drama up, but it looked like Rose and Emmett had offered enough of a united front that doubt about the woman's story was beginning to creep in.

"There? Happy?" I heard Bella snap from behind me and I turned to look at her.

She was glaring at me, and I wasn't sure that her reaction wasn't totally deserved.

"Next time," she snarled, "before you castigate _me, _wait for the facts first."

She flounced away, clearly very upset with me and I almost went after her, but I didn't know what to say. I needed to think about the right words to say first.

BPOV

I hated him. I really did.

I went and hid in the ladies lounge area and tried to tell myself that getting involved with Edward Cullen was bad news all around.

Unfortunately, I wasn't feeling very smart and all I wanted, _still, _was him.

Finally, after my tears were dry, I emerged from the bathroom, only to have Rosalie immediately pounce on me.

"Thank you so much, Bella," she said, smiling and beaming in her beautiful white gown. "I needed what you said, so much."

I smiled stiffly in return. "You're welcome. I'm glad it all worked out."

Rosalie's eyes narrowed. "What's happened?"

"Nothing, nothing," I insisted, half-turning away, afraid she'd see my still-red eyes.

"Tell me," Rosalie demanded. "If Edward's been an asshole again, I am so sorry. He just. . .is that way with women."

Rosalie's words confirmed what I already knew about Edward. He was a player. He'd never been serious about me—his words yesterday in the coffee shop had been meaningless.

I drooped even more and Rose clucked over me, hiding me behind her. "It's okay," she said kindly. "It's more worth it to find out now than to wait and fall for him and find out then."

I miserably thought to myself that it was probably already too late; I'd already fallen for the man. But I didn't say that to Rose. I just wanted to leave here as soon as possible.

As soon as the auction started, I could duck out, go home and cry myself to sleep for being stupid enough to think that Edward Cullen could ever be interested in _me_.

"Thanks, really, you're right," I reassured Rosalie who then left to go find Emmett.

I just prayed that Edward wouldn't try to approach me again until after I'd had a chance to escape.

Finally, the auction started, I ceremonially held up the first prize for bid, and then I gratefully gathered my things and hailed a cab. I sat down and let my head fall back in utter disillusionment and disappointment.

Ten minutes later, the cab driver stopped outside, and I paid him quickly and got out, ready to hurry to the door to prevent me from freezing to death outside my brownstone.

Just as I was about to unlock the door, a figure stepped out from behind one of the stone pillars that flanked the doorway, and I nearly fell over in surprise.

"Bella," Edward said entreatingly. "I've been waiting for you."

Of everything I had envisioned waiting at home for me this was the last thing I'd expected. I'd thought I'd be free and clear once I left the ballroom. Never in a million years had I thought he'd follow me—or that he even knew my address!

"I could file a restraining order, you know," I told him coldly. "You're practically stalking me these days."

"Secretly I think you like it," he murmured, taking off his coat again and wrapping it around my shoulders. I was cold so I didn't argue.

"I don't," I insisted. "I just want you to leave me alone. You don't like me and you certainly don't trust me."

"I asked Rosalie," he continued, smoothly interrupting me and ignoring what I'd asked for, "what you said to her to make her join Emmett tonight at the benefit. She said you talked to her about trust in the one you love."

He sighed. "I let you down, Bella. I should have trusted you, like I asked you to trust me, and I didn't."

"Yes, you really royally screwed up," I said petulantly. "Now can I go inside?"

"Not until you invite me in," he said with a jovial smile. "And I don't think you'll do that until you forgive me for being the most unmitigated ass."

I stared at him. "You're sorry?"

"Duh," he deadpanned. He shook his head slightly then took my hands in his, though I tried to fight him off, unsuccessfully. "Bella, I don't think you know what you've done to me. You've changed _everything_."

I raised one eyebrow skeptically. "Isn't that what they all say?"

"Well, maybe, but it's the truth with me, I swear it. Just please, _please _give me another chance to prove how much I want you."

I hesitated. I wanted to believe him so much. I really did. I wanted to believe that he'd turned over a new leaf, for me. I wanted to believe that he was sorry for the way he'd acted earlier. But I still had doubts.

"_Please_," Edward pleaded, and he looked so desperate in that moment—so honestly truthful about his need for a second chance that I couldn't help myself. Me, who never gave in, who never gave a single inch, who kept everyone at an arm's distance, capitulated.

"Okay," I said, a small smile dancing across my face. "With one stipulation."

Edward groaned, but I could tell he was smiling too. "Anything," he said. "Anything you ask for."

"You never make me kiss Emmett _ever _again."

Edward laughed and pulled me towards him, tucking my head under his chin. "Trust me, no complaints about that. I'm the only one doing the kissing from now on."

And he was right.

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**awwwwww!  
**

**Thanks again to Alaskangirl for allowing me to publish her story, and also to CallistoLexx for being a fabulous beta and for the Twinster and Angel for letting me bounce ideas off them. There will be ONE more small little one-shot that will go with this story and that will be a lemon I'm going to write for Smut Mondays on Twilighted--and yes, I will be posting it seperately here, on fanfic.**


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